Darkness
by ShadowHawq35
Summary: Daryl was in a big fight, and lost his eyesight. Can Glenn help him through this, or will Daryl fall victim to the endless darkness? Eventual Glenn/Daryl, story is hopefully better than description :)
1. Chapter 1

**Yeah, so…new story! This one features one of my ultimate OTP's: Glenn and Daryl. So…if you don't like man/man, then I'd advise you not to read. If you do… I hope you enjoy! I'll try for regular update time… maybe once ever two weeks? But I'm not sure. Anyways, I really hope that you like this new story, please review and yeah… Enough rambling, just enjoy the chapter!**

Glenn shoved the old screen door open and practically fell outside, opening his slim arms wide and allowing the cool breeze to ruffle his sweaty dark hair and tug playfully at his clothes. The ringing laughter of Carl, Eliza and Sophia reached his ears, along with the quiet murmurings of Rick and Shane, their heads bent close together as Rick gestured passionately with his hands. The women – Carol, Andrea, Lori, Amy and Jacquie – were all chatting and laughing as they soaked and scrubbed clothes in rusty buckets of water. Carol's dick husband, Ed, was nowhere to be seen, as was T-dog and Morales. Jim was sitting with his back to a tree, looking up into the shivering green leaves with a faraway expression in his eyes, while Dale sat watch on top of his RV, surveying the camp with a satisfied expression on his face. All in all, a peaceful day at camp: no bloodthirsty walkers, no mounting tension between survivors, no trouble at all. Well, except… Glenn cast a glance back at the RV and heaved a sigh. Daryl wasn't getting any better. In fact, the infection could even be getting worse, and there was nothing Glenn could do to stop it, except try his best to keep down the fever and change the bed sheets as best he could with limited supplies.

Glenn's mind cast back to the attack. The cold, gleaming eyes of the attacking group as they swarmed the quarry survivors, weapons held at the ready. The cutting voice of the leader demanding supplies, the cold steel of his knife gleaming in the moonlight. Rick's hesitant refusal. The resulting chaos as the attacking group fell upon them, cries of pain echoing through the night. And then the nearly inhuman sound of agony that rose above all of the others, ringing in Glenn's ears days afterwards. The moment where everyone, friends and enemies alike turning towards the noise. But the thing that haunted Glenn the most was the gruesome scene of Daryl, on his knees before his attacker, mouth open in a cry of anguish, hands grasping at his eyes as if trying to claw them out.

Glenn shuddered and snapped out of his dark thoughts, forcing the images from his head. Above him, the sun was shining brightly, and he lifted his face to the golden orb, closing his eyes for a moment and letting the burning red impression imprint itself behind his eyelids. Then he lowered his head again and blinked a couple of times to regain his sight. It was kind of odd, he supposed, but doing that helped to calm him down whenever he felt amped up, or overly disturbed, two things that had been happening quite a lot in the wake of the zombie apocalypse.

"Hey, Glenn!" He turned to see Sophia running up at him, teddy bear trailing behind her and concern in her large eyes. Carl and Eliza were watching from a few feet away, games halted for the moment.

"Yeah?" He asked. She looked down shyly, twisting the hem of her shirt in her hands.

"Um…is Mister Daryl gonna be okay?" She asked quietly. Glenn stiffened, but forced a comforting smile. "Of course he is, Sophia. I'll take good care of him, I promise." Glenn told her. Sophia bit her lip, looking like she wanted t say something, but too afraid to. Glenn mentally cursed Ed for forcing both Sophia and Carol into a state where both flinched at any sudden movement, and rarely ever spoke their minds. The man was a monster, equally as bad as the rotting corpses that stumbled across the earth in search for human flesh to devour.

Glenn forced back his anger in favour of an encouraging face. "What is it?" He prompted.

"Well…what happens if – I mean when – Mister Daryl recovers? I heard Mummy say that he won't be able to see anymore, and then Daddy said that he was useless without sight, and that he would just be walker bait!" Sophia burst out, automatically flinching away as if Glenn were about to hit her. Glenn made a mental note to speak to Rick about Ed's treatment of his family. And then Sophia's words really sunk in for the first time.

Truth to be told, he hadn't really given any thought to what happens next. He'd focused all of his energy and thought on keeping Daryl alive, and making sure his fever didn't get too high. He hadn't planned at all for how to successfully integrate Daryl back into their little society, or how to get him back to his previous, independent self. Glenn could feel his panic rising, and he glanced back up at the sun, letting the light expand beneath his eyelids for another moment. Then he looked back at Sophia, blinking past the lingering light of the sun.

"I'm sure he'll be fine." He lied smoothly. "We'll all help him through it, okay?" Sophia hesitated. "But I don't think Shane likes Daryl very much, and Daddy doesn't either, and everyone else is real busy…" She whispered. Glenn smiled soothingly.

"It's okay; _I'll _take care of him if no one else wants to." Glenn told her without thinking. She perked up. "Really? Promise?" Glenn hesitated. He really wasn't sure that if he swore to it, he'd be able to keep that promise, but Sophia was looking up at him with huge eyes filled with hope. She was such a sweet girl, to care so much about a man that she barely knew. Glenn didn't want to have to disappoint her, so he took a breath. "Promise." He vowed. Sophia visibly brightened, and a huge smile graced her small face.

"Thank you, Glenn!" She said happily, before running off to join her two friends as they resumed their games once again. Glenn watched her go off with a feeling of dread starting to gather in his stomach. He had no idea how he was going to keep that promise. He wasn't a doctor, how the hell was he supposed to help Daryl recover and readjust to this insane, chaotic world? Would Daryl, with all of his pride, even allow Glenn to help him to try and help him, or would the stubborn redneck just push him away? Of course, all of this depended on Daryl actually _recovering_.

Glenn shook his head firmly, chasing the thoughts away. He couldn't allow himself to become hopeless, not when he had Daryl's life in his hands, and Sophia's hopes riding on him. He had to keep on believing that everything would turn out all right.

With one last jerk of his head, Glenn turned and headed back into the RV, back into the stuffy, stifling hot air of the small structure, and the thick smell of sweat and urine. Fun. Glenn plodded over to the single bedroom where Daryl currently resided. Glenn rapped lightly on the wood, even though he knew there'd be no reply. With a sigh, he pushed open the door, letting a small slip of light spill in from the open doorway, piercing the oppressive darkness that inhabited the room. It illuminated a curled up figure on the bed, blankets tangled around his legs, arm flung over his ruined eyes and a look of anguish on his rugged face. Glenn slipped inside the plain, sparsely furnished room and softly closed the door behind him, plunging them back into the dim, murky darkness.

"Hey, Daryl." Glenn murmured, not expecting a response. He didn't get one, of course, so Glenn proceeded to take the simple wooden chair by Daryl's bed, putting his head in his hands for a moment. It had been almost two weeks, and Daryl still hadn't regained consciousness.

"Daryl, please wake up. Sophia made me promise to look after you today. I can't break my promises, now can I?" Glenn whispered, grabbing a cloth from where it hung off the side of a bucket of water, quickly dipping it in the liquid and placing it on Daryl's forehead, carefully smoothing out the creases. The white gauze around Daryl's eyes was spotted with dark blood, and some of the water trickled down from the cloth to mingle with the crimson. Glenn sighed and sat back down, folding his hands under his chin.

Daryl and him didn't really know each other all that well. They never talked around camp, only barely knew each other on first name basis, and quite frankly, Glenn didn't think Daryl particularly cared about him either way. But somehow, when Daryl had been injured, Glenn had found himself volunteering to look after the man, to the surprise of the group. From then on, he'd been the one forcing mashed up food and water into Daryl, taking out the bedpan, keeping him cool and staying with him to make sure that his fever didn't get any higher, not that there was much he could do if there was. Like he'd said, he wasn't a doctor, and they had next to no medical supplies other than some Tylenol.

Glenn was snapped out of his thoughts by a groan from Daryl's prone form on the bed, and his head spun around to where the injured man was lying. His dark eyes widened as Daryl shifted slightly and moaned again. Was he waking up?

"Daryl?" Glenn asked quietly, standing up and moving to Daryl's bedside. He shifted again, and suddenly stiffened.

"W – Why's it s'dark?" He rasped. Glenn forced down his happiness at Daryl's sudden consciousness and returned to business.

"Daryl…There's something you need to know." Glenn began hesitantly. But Daryl wasn't listening. "Why's it so dark?!" He asked louder, his voice hitching in his throat, rusty from disuse.

"Daryl–" Glenn tried, but to no avail.

"Why can't I see!?" Daryl yelled out, his hands going to the bandage around his eyes. His fingers moved fleetingly over the wet spots just above his eyes, and Glenn could see the exact moment that realization set in.

"No, no, no, no." Daryl said, his fingers frantically ripping away the binding in order to linger, shaking over his eyes.

"Why can't I see?" He yelled, his entire body starting to shake now. Glenn laid a gentle hand on Daryl's arm, but the bigger man shrugged it off, sightless eyes squeezing shut.

"It hurts. It hurts." Daryl moaned. Glenn grabbed Daryl's arm and held it with all of his strength.

"Daryl, you have to listen to me! It's Glenn, Daryl, it's Glenn. Remember me?" Glenn cried desperately. Daryl didn't stop thrashing, and Glenn had to struggle to hold on to his arm. "Daryl! Please listen to me! You have to calm down!" Glenn shouted. Surprisingly, at his words, Daryl quieted and stilled, breathing rapidly, cloudy, ruined eyes flickering around as if desperate to see something, anything. Glenn relaxed his grip on Daryl's arm slightly; though he still let his fingers remain lightly touching Daryl's skin as he spoke in a calming voice. "Take deep breaths. Slow down, and just count to ten, okay?" Daryl nodded a little too fast and focused on his breathing, while Glenn started counting in Korean.

"한…두…세…네…다섯…여섯…일곱…여덟…구…열." Glenn counted slowly, steadily, and Daryl seemed to relax slightly farther to the rhythm of Glenn's words, even if he didn't understand it. Once Glenn had reached ten, Daryl was as calm as he was going to get, although his face was still screwed up in pain.

"Good. And I'm sorry Daryl, but there's…um…something I have to tell you." Glenn licked his lips nervously. Daryl went very still on the bed, and opened his mouth hesitantly, as if afraid to speak.

"I'm blind, aren't I?" He whispered, so quietly that Glenn could barely hear him. The young Asian swallowed. "Yeah."

Daryl turned his head to the side, closing his eyes tightly as far as they would close. Glenn thought for a moment that he'd slipped back into unconsciousness, until he spoke. "I can' tell when my eyes are open or closed no more." He spoke as if to himself, barely aware of Glenn's presence in the room. Daryl took a shaky breath. "I though' that there'd be a little change. I mean, a difference in dark an' everythin', but there ain't nothing. Jus' black." Then his facial expression hardened, all traces of vulnerability suddenly gone.

"Who did ya say ya were?" He asked suspiciously. Glenn flinched guiltily, and had to remind himself that he had nothing to feel guilty about. He was just caring for Daryl, had actually kept him alive all this time. So he straightened.

"Glenn. Remember me?" He asked carefully. Daryl hesitated for a moment, and then shook his head. "Ne'er heard of ya. Oh…wait…" His face scrunched up in concentration. Then remembrance washed over his rough features.

"Right! You're that kid…the Chinese one." Daryl sounded proud of his memory, and Glenn had to restrain from rolling his eyes. "I'm Korean." He corrected, but Daryl wasn't listening.

"Wait…what are ya doin' here? An' where _am _I?" He asked sharply, starting to sit up, eyes darting rapidly, seeing nothing. He winced every time his eyes moved; the torn tissue must have hurt like hell. Glenn placed a gentle but restraining hand on Daryl's shoulder.

"Relax. I've been taking care of you, for almost two weeks. We're still in camp, and you've been sleeping in Dale's RV for the time you've been injured." He explained carefully. Daryl froze for a minute, swaying slightly due to impaired balance, and then slowly, deliberately, rolled onto his side, his back facing Glenn, and then didn't move. Glenn groaned.

"Aww, come on Daryl, everyone needs help once in a while, right?" Glenn tried.

"Not from Chinamen who ain't no more than kids themselves." Daryl snapped. Glenn sighed and sank back into his chair, his hand massaging his temple. It was going to be a hard next few weeks.

**Well, there you go. Hope you liked the first chapter, and hopefully there shall be more to come! Please, please review, and hopefully I'll see you next time! Until then, Hawq out!**


	2. Chapter 2

**Helllooooooo! So sorry about the late update, but I've been pretty busy with school and stuff like that! Thank you so much for all of your favourites, follows and reviews! They're really encouraging and I love each and every one of them! This chapter is mostly Daryl getting used to the fact that at the moment, he's mostly helpless, and might need to rely a bit more on Glenn than he would like… so yeah. Anyway, enjoy!**

**Disclaimer: Heh, I totally forgot to add a disclaimer last chapter, so oops! Well *pats down pockets, checks drawers*don't think I own The Walking Dead…poo.**

…_It was going to be a hard next few weeks._

The moment the thought crossed his mind, the door to Daryl's room flew open, crashing against the wall with a loud bang, causing Daryl to jolt back up, eyes flickering frantically, trying to figure out what had caused the sound. Glenn leapt to his feet to see Rick and half the camp gathered in the doorway, eyes wide and weapons ready.

"What happened? We heard yelling…" Rick began, but paused when his eyes fell on Daryl, awake and sitting up. Glenn glanced back at Daryl to see something he had never before seen on the tough Redneck's face: terror. Of course he would be scared, Glenn realized with a pang. He relied so heavily on his sight, just as everyone did, and to be blind in the middle of a zombie apocalypse, with no way to defend himself must have been terrible. Glenn planted himself firmly between the crowd of people at the door and the shaking man on the bed.

"Nothing's happened, we're both fine. Now if you don't mind…" Glenn hinted, gesturing with his hands. None of the people in the doorway seemed particularly eager to leave, but Rick caught the hint and turned back to this people, clapping his hands to get their attention. Daryl flinched at the sound and Glenn knew he needed to get the others out as soon as possible. Fortunately, Rick seemed to be on the same wavelength.

"Come on, people. Let's give Daryl some privacy." It wasn't a question, and the assembled crowd knew it. Slowly, each craning to get one last glimpse of Daryl before they left, each shuffled out, with Rick gently closing the door behind him. As soon as the door clicked shut, Glenn hurried to Daryl's side and put a hand on his arm, feeling the tremors that wracked Daryl's entire body.

"It's okay, it's okay. You're okay, we're safe." Glenn soothed. Daryl loosened up slightly, but was still shaking. "It was just Rick and the others, being idiots, as usual." Daryl smiled slightly at that, but then hardened his expression again, and turned away from Glenn, shrugging off his hand.

"Leave me alone." He half-growled, laying down once more with his back to Glenn.

"Daryl –" Glenn tried, but Daryl cut him off with an angry grunt.

"If you'd just –" He began again; only to be cut off once again as Daryl snapped "Leave me _alone_."

So Glenn just sat back down in his chair and crossed his arms sourly, glaring at Daryl's back. If that's how he wanted to be about it…fine! Glenn was only trying to help. Somewhere in the back of his mind, he knew that Daryl was probably scared, and in pain, and very confused, but for the moment he pushed his sympathy away and focused on the prideful part of himself. So passed the next hour of awkward silence, with Daryl fuming in his bed, and Glenn pouting in his increasingly uncomfortable chair, while the sounds of a busy camp continued outside the single, closed window. At one point, Glenn happened to look down at Daryl to see the man subtly touching his eyelids, taking a shaky breath, and all of Glenn's anger melted away, to be replaced by the one emotion he knew that Daryl would not want: pity. He tried to hold onto his anger, but all of it slipped quietly away, and it was already too late. Daryl had already noticed the change in the air and his shoulders tightened. Glenn winced.

"How are you feeling?" He asked, trying to keep his voice nonchalant, so as not to anger Daryl farther. It didn't work very well, and Daryl just snapped out a quick, "None of your business" before letting out a huff and shifting even farther away from the sound of Glenn's voice. Glenn stood, and put his hands on his hips.

"Daryl, we're not going to get anywhere if we continue like this." He warned. Daryl sat up and looked a little to the left of Glenn.

"Who says I want to _get anywhere_?" He asked stubbornly. Glenn slapped his forehead.

"I _know_ you want to, so stop being thick about it and start by getting off the bed." Glenn had decided that being gentle would go nowhere with Daryl, so he was forced to resort to being harsh, at least for this moment in time. Daryl blinked, and grumbled, but swung his legs over the side of the bed anyways, his feet lightly hitting the floor. Glenn smiled, pleased.

"Good! Now stand up." Glenn ordered, taking a cautionary step towards Daryl in case the other man fell while getting to his feet. But Daryl hesitated, his fingers gripping the blankets until they were white, and his eyes were wide, pushing past the pain in their attempt to see even the tiniest sliver of light in a world of darkness.

"Daryl." Glenn reminded, considerably softer than before. Daryl straightened up and without a word, pushed himself up, onto his feet with a speed that was probably unwise, though his pride refused to admit any slower. As soon as the redneck was on his feet, he began to sway, his feet stumbling, hands reaching blindly for anything to grab and obtain his balance with. Without thinking, Glenn lunged forward and allowed Daryl to grasp his hand tightly, leaning on him heavily for a moment. After a second, Glenn became uncomfortably aware of how close Daryl was, propped up against Glenn with his warm, callused hand within Glenn's slim one, and Daryl's every breath parting Glenn's dark hair. Daryl seemed to notice their close proximity at the same time as Glenn did, and he quickly released Glenn's hand. Before he could fall, Glenn grabbed Daryl's wrist once more and guided his hand to the wall. Then he stepped back hastily, a blush starting on his cheeks.

"Sorry." He muttered. Daryl grunted and an awkward silence ensued.

"M'thirsty." Daryl finally mumbled, and Glenn straightened, glad for the chance to leave the heavy air in the room. He nodded, remembered that Daryl couldn't see him, muttered an affirmative and walked straight into the door with a solid thump.

"Ouch." He muttered, rubbing his nose mournfully. Daryl's lips half lifted in a small smile, before he composed himself and schooled his features back into sullenness. Glenn counted that small, almost smile as a success and grinned slightly, before exiting the room with a bit more grace than his first attempt. He made his way through the cramped, messy RV, feeling a warm glow inside of him for reasons he couldn't quite fathom. Perhaps it was pride at getting Daryl to lighten up, even just slightly? Whatever the reason, Glenn felt more at ease than he had during the entire two weeks that Daryl had been unconscious.

He reached the mini kitchen and reached inside the useless fridge for the pitcher of water that they always kept filled to the brim, just in case the lake couldn't be reached for one reason or another. The liquid was slightly warm, and sloshed over his hand as he walked, but it was the best he could get besides going down to the lake and boiling fresh water for Daryl. Glenn had a feeling that the redneck wouldn't be too picky, though.

"Here." Glenn said upon entering Daryl's room again, carefully pressing the handle of the pitcher into Daryl's waiting hand. Daryl drank eagerly, the lip of the pitcher clanging against his teeth as he misjudged the distance between his mouth and the water. He had drunk at least half of the water by the time Glenn gently took the drink away, reminding Daryl that his body needed to get used to so much water before he had too much. Daryl sighed. "Since when are you Mother Teresa?" He grumbled, although, strangely, he didn't seem to be all that upset. Glenn didn't reply, just shook his head, despite the fact that Daryl couldn't see him.

"I'm goin' outside." Daryl said abruptly, and Glenn stared at him.

"Sorry?" He asked. Daryl looked towards where Glenn's voice was coming from, and said firmly, "I'm goin' outside." Glenn opened his mouth to protest, then thought the better of it and instead changed the nature of his reply. "Okay…but only if you let me help you." Daryl's brow furrowed.

"Ya can't control me." He sniped rather childishly. To prove his point, he started forward, his hand trailing along the wall, only to trip over a fold in the carpet and nearly fall flat on his face before he managed to right himself. Glenn raised his eyebrows.

"No, I can't, but you're not going to get very far without me, either." He pointed out. Daryl was quiet for a second.

"Fine." He snapped moodily. Glenn didn't try to talk anymore, just took Daryl's arm and started to carefully pull the man through the doorway, kicking fallen clothes out of the way, in case Daryl might trip on them. Daryl only stumbled once or twice, and when he did, Glenn merely tightened his grip on the redneck's arm and steadied him once more. Once they reached the screen door, Glenn quickly reached out to unlock the latch and push it open. A blast of fresh air and warm sunlight hit them, and Glenn could feel the taunt muscles in Daryl's arm relax slightly. He carefully guided the other man down each step and once Daryl's feet touched dirt, he roughly removed his arm from Glenn's grip and used the side of the RV for his balance, sinking downwards to sit cross-legged in the grass; jaw set stubbornly, ruined eyes set forward, the torn tissue gleaming red in the sun. He could sense the stares of the camp as they all turned as one to look at him in surprise. Glenn moved slightly closer to Daryl, barely even recognizing the protective stance he automatically took. He could see Daryl tensing up again with every sudden sound that he heard, but he kept his eyes forward and his head up in a display of stubborn pride.

So that was the reason that Daryl a wanted out of the RV so suddenly. Not only to feel the fresh air, and the sunlight, but also because he wanted to prove to the people at camp that he was not any weaker than before, and that he was not scared. Even if Glenn could tell he was. It wasn't that Glenn knew him better than anyone else – on the contrary, he probably knew him the least – but Glenn had been there when Daryl woke up, vulnerable, in pain, and confused.

He was jolted out of his thoughts by the sight of rick approaching them, thumbs in his belt, a cautious look on his face. Lori was trailing her husband tentatively, her hand holding Carl's smaller one as the three made their way towards the two men. Rick approached first, and nodded at Glenn before turning his attention to Daryl.

"Hey, Dixon. How are you feeling?" He asked carefully. Daryl didn't budge from his position, but looked up towards Rick's voice, face tensed in anger.

"M'fine." Was all he said. Rick just shrugged, used to Daryl's offhandedness, and turned to Glenn, pulling the Korean man slightly away from Daryl so that they could talk in private.

"How's he doing with…well, you know…Things? Uh… stuff?" Rick asked awkwardly. Glenn narrowed his eyes in thought.

"He seems to be adjusting pretty well, I think…I mean, he's scared, obviously, but all in all, he doesn't seem as rattled as I thought he'd be." Glenn reflected. Rick smiled and clapped Glenn's shoulder.

"That's great! The faster he adjusts, the better it'll be!" He enthused. Glenn nodded with a smile. Rick glanced to where Carl was talking with Daryl, a big smile on the little boy's face. A tense Lori was hovering protectively near her son, waiting for Daryl to lash out at him like he typically did to anyone who spoke to him before the attack. But Daryl seemed content to talk to Carl, listening carefully to the little boy's words and responding with as much kindness as Daryl was able to show. Glenn grinned. So it seemed Daryl had a soft spot for young children. Rick seemed to be having the same thoughts, as he went over to Lori and spoke to his wife quietly, before planting a kiss in her long dark hair and guiding her away, leaving Daryl, Glenn and Carl alone.

Glenn moved to follow them, but Daryl's head snapped up and his sightless eyes darted around, as if looking for something.

"Is that Asian kid still here?" He asked of Carl, a note of – was it panic? – in his voice. Glenn changed his course and walked back to where Daryl was sitting. He touched Daryl's shoulder.

"Yeah, I'm still here." He assured him. Daryl shrugged Glenn's hand off.

"Pity." He answered coldly. Carl looked between the two in confusion and then said a quick goodbye and ran off to go and play with Sophia. Glenn took a step back and frowned.

"Okay." He said, feeling a little hurt. Had he imagined the underlying sound of fear when Daryl had asked for him? Apparently so. He forced himself to shake the feeling off. They barely knew each other, and Daryl was known for hating everyone and everything around him… save for Merle and/or young children.

"I can leave then, if you want me to?" He asked. Daryl hesitated.

"Can I go back inside?" He asked finally, avoiding Glenn's question. "Yeah, of course." Glenn replied instantly, moving to grab Daryl's arm before thinking the better of it and withdrawing, letting Daryl drag himself up using the RV. Then, carefully, he took Daryl's arm and led him back inside.

After Glenn had left, Daryl lay alone in the darkness, hidden underneath the comforting warmth of the thick blankets, feeling more alone and vulnerable than he'd felt since Merle's death. And the pain. The pain that just burned away behind his eyes, never leaving, unrelenting. It hurt, it really, really hurt. He guessed that was the price of getting stabbed in not one, but _both _eyes. That and his vision.

He hated that fear that pumped through his veins, an unspeakable fear of what lay next now that he had been rendered practically defenceless in an apocalyptic world. It frustrated him to no end.

But what he hated the most at the moment was his panic when, while talking to Rick's boy – Carl, his name was Carl – he hadn't felt Glenn's presence, and it had truly panicked him. He didn't know why, either. He barely knew the kid, and, truth to be told, before the attack that had left him blind, he had thought him a weak, mostly useless extra mouth to feed. He supposed it might have been that Glenn had been there when Daryl first awoke, and had been a constant presence in the brief time that Daryl had been awake. Whatever it was, that panic made him feel incredibly _weak, _and so the moment that Glenn had assured him that he was there, Daryl had blustered his way out of admitting that he felt fear in any way.

Daryl shifted in his bed, burying his face into the pillow, the cool, relatively clean fabric soothing him slightly, erasing a tiny bit of his inner turmoil. He fell asleep a half hour later, in that same position, eyes burning and soundless tears snaking their way down his cheeks.

**Yay, so another chapter done! Please, let me know how you liked it, if you have any ideas for later chapters, and other stuff. Yay! See you next time guys! BYE! Thanks for reading!**

**-Hawq signing out**


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